[GGE] nothing can stop me

MELITA

The frustration of the tangled strands began to pile within her mind; nothing quite like any of her other munitions, and though she wasn’t an individual to give up, to give in, to fumble beneath the weight of some unknown, ignorant failure, it didn’t mean exasperations didn’t occupy her thoughts. She pulled the needles apart and stared at the massive mess she’d already orchestrated; Fangorn completely nonplussed by the entire event, while she sighed, blew some hair out of her face. At this point, poor Peter might only be receiving a Gordian knot (she could pretend it was intentional; a puzzle for him to solve). Determination fumbled along her jaw, and she loosened the slightest of growls as she bent down, legs no longer swinging against stone, grabbing hold of the remaining thread and starting over again.

Her head only raised from her surly contortions at the sound of her name called along the throng, instantly raising her cranium, much like a wolf, scanning the horizon until she pinpointed it upon someone she hadn’t seen in a great, long while. Instantly her features retained their brilliant, singsong accord, forgoing her wrath and contempt for pieces of yarn, forging pleasantries and warmth in exchange. “Nathaniel,” she commented, a wry smile, a tilt of her skull, fond memories of chorus bees and their hives, tunes and melodies in perfect pitch, curling back over her. The girl didn’t ask where he’d been, what he’d been doing; winter was like a hibernation period, a chance to regrow and renew, to come out into the springtime ether, after LongNight, after curling and coiling into pieces of the dark – like chrysalises, like caves, like catacombs. “How are you?” An extension of her faith and ebullience, the disastrous wake in her hands omitted.

Until he clearly saw the struggle.

A fair question, really, when her gaze slid back down to the disorder and disarray in her lap, spilling over the sides of her legs, clambering along the stone wall as if it were trying to escape. Another sigh escaped her lungs, a shrug cast across her shoulders. “I have to knit a sweater.” Her gaze ascended back to his, the slightest bit of laughter coiled in her eyes.

She's so hard to please
But she's a forest fire